The One Who Loves You (Tickled Pink #1)(92)

His forehead wrinkles when his brows go up. “Dunk tank? That’s new.”

“You didn’t hear? Shiloh found her mom’s diary, and there was an entry about a deleted scene in Pink Gold where Whitney Anastasia let the townspeople try to dunk her in a dunk tank, and they raised money to fix the town’s septic system that way, so Gigi’s letting us put her in the dunk tank for twenty bucks a pop.”

Teague is an evil genius for convincing Shiloh to “find” that.

I could love the man.

I really could.

And the way he’s been teaching me to throw so that I can hit the target and dunk Gigi myself, with a promise that he won’t miss even if I do?

I might start believing in heroes.

Dylan looks at where Tavi was standing a moment ago.

She’s crawling in the grass under the table like she lost something now, and because we have tablecloths, he can’t see her from his side.

But I can.

“Is that dunk tank what that Deer Drop Gossip Sheet was about that I found in my driveway?” Dylan asks.

I make an innocent face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Also, I didn’t know you live in Deer Drop. Or that they have their own gossip sheet.”

“I’m a Tickled Pinker through and through, but sometimes Deer Drop forgets where the town lines are. And I’ve got a feeling it wasn’t Deer Drop who started their gossip sheet.” He grins. The man truly is adorable.

I’m not saying I’d break the hot water at the school again just to have an excuse to call him out, but I wouldn’t be sad at the eye candy if the sink in the kitchen were to break.

And yes, I said that in front of Teague yesterday, and yes, I had a hard time getting out of his bed this morning after how very satisfied all of my body felt while he reminded me who’s the more attractive of the two of them.

Poor man still doesn’t always catch on when I accidentally on purpose have those little slips into being the old version of me.

“Clearly, Deer Drop heard how popular the Tickled Pink Papers are and wanted to cash in themselves,” I tell him.

“With free flyers dropped on everyone’s door over there claiming that your grandmother thinks that Deer Droppers are the least intelligent Wisconsinites?”

“They really don’t know how to do gossip sheets, do they? Poor things. I wonder if they’ll be mad enough to spend twenty bucks a pop to try to dunk her . . .” I’m betting they will. And it’ll be used as seed money to start the fund to build a new Ferris wheel.

And if dunking Gigi is as popular as I hope it is, we might have some money left over for a down payment on a candy shop.

I am putting Tickled Pink back on the map as everything it was supposed to be.

Tavi whimper-coughs under the table.

Dylan squats down, lifts the tablecloth, and peers at her. “Hey. There you are. Lose something?”

She pats her chest. “My voice,” she rasps out.

“And you think you’ll find it down here?”

“Never know,” she whisper-grunts.

“Fried chicken?” Bridget says as she and Teague approach our table too. “Is that actual edible fried chicken?”

“I didn’t make it,” I say as my heart flutters.

Flutters.

Just seeing the big bearded lumberjack is enough to put a goofy grin on my face and butterflies in my chest and swoony dreams in my head of snuggling up next to him in his tree house during the first snowfall of the year.

I have it so bad.

And I have zero regrets.

Teague gives me a secret smile that says he’s glad to see me as well but won’t make a fuss, because he’s not a fuss maker, before he bends over and looks under the table at Tavi too.

“She’s looking for her voice,” Dylan says.

Both men straighten.

Dylan is poker faced in a way that suggests he’s not an idiot.

He knows Tavi’s avoiding him.

He might even know why, which is information I’m unfortunately not privy to, despite the number of times I’ve asked her why she’s avoiding him.

But I don’t really care when Teague looks at me, and my heart melts into what’s usually left over from my feet after a night out dancing in the wrong shoes.

Something squishy and unrecognizable and a little painful but also totally doing its job and on its way to its own personal growth.

I like him.

I like him a lot.

“Be patient with yourself, Phoebe,” he’s said about six million times lately. “Change hurts, but it’s worth it.”

He never says more, but there’s something in his voice that tells me he’s been there.

He’s turned into my safe space. And for the first time in my life, I want to return a favor, not because of what it’ll gain me but out of sheer gratitude.

“You two are so disgusting,” Bridget mutters over her chicken. “Oh, swag. Whoa. I was totally sus, but this is, like, good. Dad. Dad, try this.”

She shoves a chicken leg in his mouth before he can object, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Carter made it,” Tavi says as she pops back up from under the table.

Teague shoots a glance at Dylan, who’s gotten distracted by the boiling pot of water that my father is trying to use to cook corn at the next table over, then swallows before grinning at Tavi. “Found your voice?”